


Breathlessly

by six_wicked_secrets



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 07:17:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14689185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/six_wicked_secrets/pseuds/six_wicked_secrets
Summary: His soft words met the world, clinging like honey to the king's eager skin, “I love you.”— A Merthur Drabble—





	Breathlessly

**B R E A T H L E S S L Y**

  
  


The blonde let his fingers glide deftly up the concave/convex of the small disks in the ebony boy's spine, gingerly; gaze smoldering over the muted skin that stretch across the span of his back, seeing the muscles slipping and tensing under the archaic mage's flesh as he shifted slightly—mesmerized by the hypotonic-ness of the warlock’s idiosyncratic beauty.

  
  


“So pretty…” The king whispered, leaning forward to let his words ghost on the boy's skin, rolling heatedly up his neck and into disgruntled, inky hair.

  
  


The blonde saw the warlocks muscles tensing as he gathered his limbs to turn and face the king, sticky blue eyes glossed over with a storm of emotions as they caught the warchild's hazy gaze, voice soft and ghostly as it arose into the thick atmosphere, “You should go to sleep, Arthur, there’ll be a storm tonight and you'd better enjoy the quiet whilst it lasts.”

  
  


The king's lips tilted upwards as he blinked slowly, owlishly, gazing up at the sorcerer through dense lashes, “Join me?”

  
  


The boy dropped his gaze, a perplexing smile fitting across his features—as if he was sharing some untold inside joke with himself—sly and knowing, “Why, of course, Sire.”

  
  


The blonde rolled his eyes at the mockery, letting his hand fit across the boy’s bare shoulder, before it slipped down to catch his hand, “Good, I wasn't taking no for an answer.”

  
  


The warlock smirked, and the blonde noted the trace's of sleep within it, seeing as exhaustion pulled at his eyes and how dark concaves had formed under his persian blue gaze, derision lacing his thin words as he leaned in close to share a breath with the warchild, “Of course you weren't.”

  
  


“Of course.” The king agreed, chastly, before his lips melted against the archaic mage's, eyes falling shut as he breathed in the simplicity of the gesture, and the comfort of the warlock's lean arms snaking around his waist in a loose embrace—yet firm with possessiveness.

  
  


Gathering the energy to part, they made way to the bed, and slipped under the thick blankets that were sure to keep away the small chill of the nearing spring nights. Exhaustion settled in their bones, tension slipping loose of their bodies as they fell comfortable in the bed: Merlin half draped across the blonde, legs curled around him and head falling into the vacant space beside his head; Arthur sprawled across his back with arms wide and welcoming, and head lolling to the side of his pillow.

  
  


“Goodnight, Merlin.” The king whispered, something tender and a little wrecked in his voice, wondering how he had ever lived without this tight swell of affection that was constantly stuttering in his chest whenever the warlock was around.

  
  


The archaic mage chuckled deep in his throat—low and husky—as if he could read Arthur's thoughts through the lines of his lax skin, and once the rumbling in his chest faded away, his soft words met the world, clinging like honey to the king's eager skin, “I love you.”

  
  


“Of course you do,“ The king had whispered, a little breathlessly, because it still ceased to surprise him that someone as wonderfully calamitous as the ebony haired boy could even fathom having affections for someone as wrecked as he; the blondes tone dipped into something rattled and lost, yet warm and stable, “I love you, too.”

  
  
  


Gently, sleep took them into it's warm hold, and their bodies hummed with tranquility, and their hearts swam in illusion within such unknown depths together. 

  
  


Always together.

  
  


And true to the warlocks words, a storm raged outside of the cold, stone walls of Camelot, rain spiking against the window, and lighting spreading it's scintillating tendrils of light through the hollow sky as thunder laughed, low and wide bellied, mockingly.

  
•••

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> All grammar mistakes are mine, sorry :(
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed!


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